Month: February 2018

Hey you guys! I’ve been gone for like, two years. I would have written, but nothing happened that was interesting. This is a lie. I have two teenagers now and I have been in witness protection and I just decided to break the rules and write something. This is also a lie. The government refuses to address the clear necessity for parents of teens to enter witness protection. I would usually take issue with this, but there are clearly more pressing matters at hand with the federal government these days.

But enough serious stuff. I wanted to perform a public service today. I wanted to tell you, the people, about a very important issue. i want to spread the word about the dangers of wasabi. Or, more specifically, about what happens when you accidentally snort wasabi.

“Snort wasabi?!?!” , you laugh. Yes, snort wasabi. It was in my fridge and since my fridge is no man’s land, I wasn’t sure what it was, so I sniffed it. (I was going to include a link about my housekeeping skills or lack thereof, but you know what? Read my past blog posts. You’ll see. You’ll all see.) A hard sniff. By the way, I don’t appreciate that you laughing. This was probably some of the worst pain ever. Most women would compare it to childbirth, but honestly, this is more recent and therefore more painful today. (This will not be true tomorrow.) Y’all, I could see my brain, and my brain was sad. It didn’t understand why I put my nervous system through this. I was in too much pain to explain to my brain. (I had to, HAD TO, type that sentence.)

This. In my nose.

I drank water. Nope. I blew my nose. The worst idea known to man, apparently. I prayed to die. Unanswered. I silent screamed. Made me feel a little better, but my nose was still suffering nuclear fallout. Tears were streaming down my face, something I usually reserve for everything during PMS. I didn’t know what to do I and I could see to Google it. Then it hit me.

Milk.

“MILK?!?!” You question me before you stop reading forever.

Yes, milk. I remembered that I read somewhere that milk stops the hots from like wings and such. Oh, I can see (not really) from your expressions of horror that you have already deduced what I did next.

Yes, yes, y’all, I put milk up my nose.

It was just as horrible as you think. I thought maybe, maybe I should have just died a wasabi-related death. But then- aaaahhhh. I could breathe without trying–and failing–to black out. So gross, but I lived. I LIVED.

And that is my comeback to all three of you, ladies and gentlemen. Also, this had been a public service announcement about snorting wasabi. YOU’RE WELCOME, AMERICA.